Soldier
by Marvelgirl1617
Summary: Emily Andrews was many things; caring, stubborn, hard-working, and smart. But, she was definitely not brave. She saw herself as just a waitress who got lousy tips, and a wishful blogger who just wants to get noticed. Hell's Kitchen will always be an eventful and interesting place. Most of all dangerous, Hell's Kitchen has a lot of secrets hidden. Hell's Kitchen needs its blogger.
1. Chapter 1

This is more of a note! Just letting you know that this character I've createdmight not have any romantic relations with FrankCastle. But she is his best friend and she'd do anything for him. Now my pen name isAmber but you can find me on the app  
wattpad. My user is MarvelGirl2016. I have another account on here, it's AmberAndrews16The story description there is a little longer. And I have no idea if I'll keep the story on here since I'm pretty new to this. This is also rated T! Some  
reason this thing won't let me change the rating


	2. Prologue Christmas Eve

_What Is A Hero?_

 _Written By Emily Andrews_

 _Some people's definition of hero is someone who fights crime. Someone like DareDevil or the Punisher. But, you don't have to be a fighter against crime tobe a hero. A hero can be someone who gave money to the poor. A singleparent, who struggles but still manages to keep the kids happy._

 _Why is it that others expect one person to do it all? When in reality helping someone makes a big change. Now, many people ask who is my hero? I've finally gotten my answer._

 _We actually mentioned him before, The Punisher, the vigilante who puts down criminals for good. I don't agree what he did was right, but I'm not here to choose sides. I'm here to expose the way I see him._

 _He's not the Punisher, and he's certainly no hero type. Because he's so much more then that. He's just ordinary Frank Castle. He's my soldier who came back from the war to only feel like he was thrown back in._

 _But most importantly, my best friend._

 _Merry Christmas, loser, you know who you are._


	3. 1 Madman

**1|Madman broke into my apartment? No, it's just Frank Castle all bloodied up.**  
 **  
**

I watched the old clock tick achingly slow. The Midnight Diner wasn't in any way marked degree popular, except for the occasional customer. Which displayed sketchy individuals that just stare at me, but I learned to roll with it. It  
was a quarter till eleven, my shift ended at eleven forty.

I worked at a diner that had fluorescent lights flickering from above, like they were going to run out of juice at any moment. It was easy to grow comfortable with the smell of bitter coffee, noting that a close friend of mine practically ran on  
the stuff. The aroma had made a home in my sunflower yellow uniform, the collared dress reaching above my knees. An apron, ruffles at the edges was tied around my waist.

I jolt from where I'm seated at a booth, as a plate filled with familiar goodness I'd dropped before me. But of course, something I hadn't ordered, like usual. My gaze abandons the clock and trails it's way up to s familiar pair of blue eyes, looking  
at me from behind spectacles.

"Charles, I've told you, you don't have to do this." I say, even though my mouth waters at the sight of the burger and fries.

"Youblady, if you think I'd ever send you away on an empty stomach your mistaken," the grey haired man insists.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't put up such a fight with him, he does this all the time," A sweet, polite voice hollers from behind the counter, where she was pouring coffee for acustomer.

Denise and Charles Stokes owned the Midnight Diner. One of the sweetest old married couples I have come to meet in Hell's Kitchen. I've worked with them for the past two years, and they actually make working so much more entertaining.

"This is coming from the lady who argued earlier about her special sause." I tease her, as I nibble on a fry. Denise didn't want to admit it, but her so called special sauce was created with two condiments: mayo and ketchup.

"Emily Andrews! Don't even start with me missy!" Denise threatens. I hold back a snort, and take a bite from the greasy goodness that I call heaven.

"Thanks," I said, through a mouthful of burger. Charles nods m, giving me a pat on the shoulder and walks back into the kitchen.

As I busy myself with my food, Denise sits from across me. The sixty year old woman has high cheekbones, her eyes gray and filled with curiosity. Her hair gray with streaks of white from old age and stress. Denise's fragile hands are clasped together  
on the table.

"So how's the blog going?" Her soothing voice questions. I raise an eyebrow and let out a sigh.

"You know it takes a while to come up with things to write." I answer.

"What was that one you wrote about with that incident involving that cruel man?"

"Wilson Fisk?"

"Yeah, I still can't believe he turned out to be such a vile man."

"I thought so as well, but sadly one of the flaws of this city is that it may be vile."

Denise sighs, "I'm just happy he's behind bares where he belongs."

"I think everyone feels the same." 

* * *

My shift had finally ended, and I couldn't wait until I reached my apartment. The thought of sleeping in until the afternoon and watching tv brought a smile to my face. I wrapped my coat tighter around me as the chilly night air skimmed my  
cheeks. The sound of police sirens echoed through the night. I had seemed to have gone numb to the sudden noise that would make me jump six feet in the air.

I've lived in this city for a very long time, it had grown on me. The walk didn't last much longer as I reached my apartment building. I entered the building and made my way down the hall, and up the stairs.

As I way fishing my key from my coat pocket, the hairs onthe back of my neck stand up. My door was cracked open, but I remembered closing it.

Unwanted memories start to resurface, the sound of glass shattering and shouts repeat in my head. But, as swiftly as they came I shook them away.

There was no hiding that I was afraid of what or who was waiting for me behind that door. Lifting a trembling hand I shoved the door open. I make a face as the door squeaks at the sudden force. Walking into the apartment was probably the hardest  
thing I've done. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure the intruder was already alerted of my presence. As I reached the end of the darkened hallwa, I peaked around the corner. I noticed a silhouette slouched on my couch.

 _Did a homeless person break into my apartment? How? Only way in this building is with a key or someone had to buzz you in._

 __

I find myself grabbing a wooden baseball bat that I kept in the hallway closet. Fingers gripping the handle so tightly they start to turn white. I stride up to the unknown figure, getting ready to swing if I saw any sign of movement until  
a voice stopped me.  
 _  
_

 _"_ Put the bat down, Emily."  
 _  
_

My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden voice. The figure moves and suddenly the lamp beside the couch is switched on.

The bat slips from my hands, my face grows hot from anger.

"Frank! What the hell is wrong with you?! I thought-"

Frank groaned, "Enough with the shouting, I'm not exactly in the greatest shape for you to try and hit me with a bat."

I opened my mouth to say something, but suddenly I felt concern wash over me as I noticed Frank's current state. His shirt was stained with blood, his cheek was bruised and he had a black eye. His bottom lip had split down the middle. Red flower  
from the wound.

"What happaened?! Your bleeding through your shirt!" I panicked, suddenly my heart started racing again.

"I see that," Frank snaps harshly. "Could you-"

"Help you? You don't even need to ask. What has been going on with you? You've been so distant."

"I have my reasons."

"I have my reasons as why I want to know what happened."

"I don't care,"

Realizing that I wasn't getting anywhere with him, I start gathering first aid from my bathroom. I return with gauze, a bowl of water, and cloth. Frank had removed his shirt to reveal a gash across his musceled chest. The sight made me even more  
suspicious as to what he was getting involved in.

"God, Frank," I utter in dismay. "I've known you since sophomore year of high school, you got into fist fights but you never turned out like this."

Frank grumbles, "Just tend to the wound already."

I became appalled by the sudden command, but obeyed but as I washed the wound I made sure to purposely apply pressure. Which he'd groan in pain and send me a deathly glare, and I would roll my eyes in return.

I finished tenunf to the chest wound, and casually sat next to him to get better access as I applied ointment to the laceration.

"You're lucky you don't need stitches," I declare, grabbing a roll of gauze.

He doesn't answer.

"So is this what's going to happen every night? You show up bloodied and bruised, while I play nurse?" I fumed. I toss the left over gauze aside and roughly grab Frank's chin, and start to examine his split lip. Frank knocks my hand away, I protest  
angrily.

"I'll try not to," He states. I take notice of a few scars that litter his abdomen and around his chest.

"Try? So you've been stitching yourself up?!" I shout. "You're telling me that at night, you're out there possibly bleeding to death, and choosing to stitch yourself up? And that I have no idea whether your still alive!"

"Yes."

"God damn it Frank!"

Before I could go on any further, Frank had rose to his feet.

"Hey-"

"I'm fine, Andrews," he agitatedly says.

"Well, I find that hard to believe Castle,"

Frank ignores me as he pulls on his bloodied shirt. Then starts walking towards the door.

"Frank."

He sighs, "What?"

"I won't hesitate to hit you with the bat next time."

Frank doesn't hide his smirk, "I don't doubt it."

I know this is short! But I'm trying my best! Please leave a comment on what you think.


	4. Chapter 2

2|That's not at all scary!

The one thing that Emily hated, besides cats, was writers block. She would find herself staring at her laptop screen all night. While others would give up; she wouldn't give in so easily.

So here she was standing in her kitchen waiting for her coffee to finish brewing. Emily had decided to make a whole pot, seeing as she didn't see sleep coming anytime soon. This routine was normal which surprised some people. The Blogger wanted

to so badly write articles on important events, and get great stories to tell. She would be found lost in thought, daydreaming how it would be like to be a journalist. Where she would be noticed, very few know who she was and if they did, they didn't  
/show it.

Emily drummed her fingers on her laminate countertops, her eyes caught themselves on her reflection in the coffee pot. The bags under her eyes were getting noticeable and harder to hide. Her blue eyes weren't as bright, due to the lack of sleep,

her light brown hair pulled into a messy bun. The coffee machine beeped, which meant the coffee was ready. Rising to the tips of her toes she grabbed an old ceramic glazed coffee mug from the cabinet above her. Half way from the bottom the mug

/was painted pink. To some the coffee mug just looked like something out of a thrift shop.

But it was more of a sentimental value.

The person who had given it to her was long gone, and was never coming back. How did she know this?

Because that person was dead.

The precipitous sound of the door unlocking brought her back to reality. She grabbed her signature bat from two nights ago. As soon as the trespasser came into view, she pummels the guy right in the gut. The attack caused the man to wheeze in shock.

"Emily?" The man painfully gasped. "Do you even play baseball?"

Emily, realizing it was Frank, smiled amusingly. "Well, I did say I wouldn't hesitate last time." The little light that shined through the fire escape window, caught on a small object in his hand. Her eyes growing wide as tennis balls. She ripped

it from his hand.

Emily scoffed, "So you had a key made? That is not at all scary."

The Blogger caught him rolling his dark brown eyes.

"Calm down," he says, an arm slowly comes from behind his back. In a slight defensive way, his narrow eyes locked on the bat like she was going to try and hit him again. Emily detected this and set it aside.

She becomes unable to move as her gaze falls onto a small clear plastic container. The familiar floral sticker with the words _Judy's Bakery_ stuck on top of it. A smile had crawled it's way on her face, Frank had made a trip to her favorite  
/bakery, which he only did when he wanted to apologize. He'd never say it, he'd say it through actions.

In the container held a fluffy and soft slice of lemon cake. Her most favored treat she'd prefer out of every junk food there was. She went to grab for it when she paused abruptly. She blew out her cheeks, and placed her hands on her hips.

"You're not trying to bribe me are you?" She questions a frown forming. "I'm not going to have to owe you a favor, like help you if you show up bloodied again?"

Frank raises an eyebrow, runs his free hand through his brown hair that was shaved at the sides. He starts to retract the dessert, by this point she notices what he's doing.

He's taunting her, trying to get her to forgive him.

Seemingly in a playful sort of way.

"Hey! I never said I wouldn't take it!" Emily stated loudly. She took hold of the cake in her hands, then sauntered over to her kitchen, and opens a drawer, pulling out two forks. She walks towards Frank with dragging feet, a noticeable glint of sadness  
/in her eyes.

"Did I hurt your wound from a few nights ago?" Emily asked. Her stare flickering between the area of his injury and his slightly still bruised face. His spilt lip slightly scabbed over.

"You're fine, I should've expected you to hold up to your word."

She smiles weakly and for the first time in a while, the two sit together on the recliner listening to the sound of the city. Enjoying the moment, as they never did this often. She closes her eyes in thought.

' _This is what happens when Frank Castle is your neighbor.'_

* * *

The next morning didn't exactly go as intended. She'd woken up on her couch a blanket bundled around her. Emily moves slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The young woman checked her phone with heavy eyes.

 _Two missed calls_

The missed calls being from her older sister by two years, Rachel. Rachel worked as a night shift nurse at Metro-General Hospital. They had decided to go out to lunch that afternoon. Emily had mistakenly slept longer then she should've

and their get together was at one o'clock.

It was one thirty.

Her sister was going to kill her.

She runs panicked hands through her hair, that had fallen from its bun. Racing around the apartment, she slipped into a pair of blue jeans, and a red flannel with a black tank top underneath.

Emily was out the door with a to go cup of coffee, and sending a quick text to her sister.

* * *

The guilty filled blogger had rushed down the crowded streets of Hell's Kitchen. Emily being absentminded of where she was going, her phone having her attention seeing as she was notifying her sister that she was almost there. It was unanticipated  
/when she barreled into something, more like someone.

She let out a stunned sound, as her coffee overturned in her hand and spilled down her shirt. The scorching drink stung against her skin.

"My apologies, miss." A male's voice says in an off guarded tone. She looked up to see a nicely dressed man, dress shirt and tie. He had long blonde locks that were brushed back.

She chuckled, "No worries it was my fault, wasn't paying attention." Her eyes zone in on a stain on his shirt, no doubt her coffee. "Your shirt-"

He motioned to her shirt, an amused smile dancing on his face. "I think yours got the worst."

She looks down to discover that he wasn't wrong. Her shirt was completely soaked.

She smiles in a reassuring way, "Too bad, doesn't matter I was going to throw it out anyway."

"If you want I could buy you a coffee."

"There's no need for that, but tell you what I'm feeling nice, so when you're free give me a call and I'll buy _you_ a coffee."

"Sounds good to me, what do you think Matt? You approve?"

Emily had just noticed another person in their company. He held a walking stick and wore dark, round glasses. His short black hair also brushed back.

"I think you got yourself a deal," Matt chuckled, he held out his hand for her to shake. She accepted the gesture grabbing his calloused hand. She then jotted down her number and gave it to the still unnamed man.

"The name is Emily by the way. Emily Andrews." She introduced herself.

The man seems to be taken a back once again. "You mean, as the blogger?"

"Who's asking?" She laughs, "Yeah, I'm surprised you knew my name not many do or care."

"Your work is unique, the name is Foggy Nelson."

"Thanks, wait your the two that helped with Wilson Fisk then?"

"Correct."

Before she could say anymore, her phone buzzed with messages from an upset sibling.

"Sorry, I have to cut the chit chat short, have an angry older sister, who's ready to rip my head off, if I'm even more late then I already am." She informs. "See you around?"

"See you around."

She then waves good bye and proceeds on her way to her destination.

* * *

Emily finally reaches the nice, small cafe. The sound of chatter fills her ears as she walks in. She catches the sight of the familiar mop of red hair. She rushed to her table and plopped down in a chair.

Rachel's deep green eyes look at her, with an eyebrow raised.

She points a finger at her shirt which is still damp. "What happened?"

"Oh funny story, ran into a guy-"

"Wait? A guy was he hot?"

"Rach!" She exclaimed. "I'm not going to answer that. Anyways, I literally ran into him spilling my coffee all over me. Met his friend who was with him. The two happened to be lawyers. I'm probably going to met one of them for coffee."

"Interesting," She smiles, "My curiosity has killed my appetite. How's Frank doing?"

How was he doing? She never asked how he was when he'd came over last night. He was probably the one who wrapped her in the blanket. She didn't feel like it was right to ask if he was okay.

After everything he'd been through, of course he wasn't okay.

"I don't think so Rach," She said, resting her chin in her hand. "Three nights ago he showed up bloodied and bruised. I'm worried, that he'll get severely hurt, and I won't know."

Rachel's eyes widen at the sudden news, shocked at how Frank could do such a thing. She wanted to scold the retired soldier about worrying her sister.

"I'm sure he'll get better, Em." Rachel states, her eyes saddened.

Emily presses her lips into a thin line, "How can you be so sure? When my friend starts getting into dangerous shit, it gives me the vibe that he's suicidal. Like he's putting his life on the line on purpose."

"Just keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Yeah, I'll do that."

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"It's about him."

"About who?"

"Jacob."

"What about him?"

"They released him from prison."

"What?"

Emily didn't know what to say, all she could do was tune out everyoneas she tried to get rid of that one person out of her thoughts.

* * *

Emily walked beside her older sibling who was now decked down in her nurses uniform. Rachel had actually gotten a bit teared up after a wife explained that her husband protected her in a bar where a fight had broken out. She'd listened to the whole  
/thing as well, and she would be lying if she said she didn't tear up.

Emily was no longer in a coffee stained shirt, her sister had chucked an extra shirt at her when they'd made a trip to the locker room so Rachel could change.

So here she was the younger sibling stalking the halls, along with her sister who was making her runs.

She'd been following her around the whole day, and it's safe to say the oldest was busy; she didn't want Emily breathing down her neck.

"Do me a favor, check on that Steve guy, who got wounded in that bar fight." She says, Emily nods frantically, relieved to do something more, then just follow Rachel around. Rachel tells the blogger the patients room number, and then scurries off

to assist other patients.

Emily makes it to the room without any trouble and finds the married couple in a sort of argument.

She knocks alerting the two that their not alone. "Hi. I was told by my sister to come and check on you."

Steve suddenly stiffens his eyes darting around the room. He was sitting up, fumbling around looking as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You a nurse?" The blonde asked.

"Oh no, medical field not my thing, I'm Emily Andrews, I'm more of a wr-"

"You mean the blogger? I have a friend whose show me a few of your writings."

"Funny, you're the second person who recognized my name."

Their conversation was interrupted as shouts of panicked civilians were heard from outside the room. The wife instructed the two to stay put. But, Steve was already making it his mission to get out of bed. Emily heard him faintly ranting about someone  
/coming to finish the job.

Emily wraps her arms around herself, her voice shaking, "What's going on?"

The two didn't answer, but the look on the blonde's face told whatever was happening wasn't a laughing matter.

"Lets go!" The woman shouts, snatching Steve by his hospital gown, she looks at Emily, and moves to grab her too, but the blogger shies away.

The woman's gaze softens a bit, "Emily I need you to trust me, my name is Karen, come with us."

She looks at Karen, their blue eyes filled with the same fear. She nods, every part of her body trembling. The three rush from the room, running as fast as they could. Heart pounding, Emily sends a glance behind to see a figure holding a gun, pointing  
/it in the there's direction. She never got the chance to see his face, but noticed how the man faltered for a moment.

 _As if the sight of one of them, surprised him._

A hand grabbing her arm, and hanging her toward them, dragged her out of thought. A bullet suddenly collided directly where Steve would've been. But, if Emily hadn't been pulled out of the way it would've pierced through her shoulder.

The three make it to the emergency exit. Before they ran out it, Karen presses the fire alarm. The alarm ringing throughout the building. The gun man follows them but they have already made it through the stairwell and into the dark night of Hell's  
/Kitchen. Emily finds herself following them towards an car that seemingly belonged to Karen.

Karen panicked as she fumbled around looking for the car keys.

"Do you ever have the right keys?!" Steve shouted at her impatiently.

"Shut up! Shut up!" A distressed Karen demanded.

"Is this even your car?"

"It belonged to a friend."

"Where's he?" Emily asked, watching as Karen finally unlocked the car.

"He's dead."

"Oh."

That's all that is said, as they scrambled in the car, Steve in the front, while Emily sat with hunched shoulders in the back.

As they speeded down the road, Karen and Emily screamed as a bullet shot off a review mirror. Em, puts her hands over her head and helps as the window behind her shatters, the gunshot missing her.

Then as they drove farther the incoming shots ceased. But, they still had a feeling it would start again.

As Emily finally finds herself able to speak she asks, "You guys aren't married are you?"

* * *

Hoped you enjoyed! Sorry for the wait! Until next time! Leave your thoughts on who you think Jacob is?


	5. 3

3| **Returned**  
 **  
**

Emily's chapped lips sipped from a styrofoam cup of cold water. Her shoulders slumped, gunshots still ringing in her head. Authoritative figures rushing around her like a swarm of bees that wouldn't stop buzzing. She could feel the  
unwanted stares drilling into the back of her head. Whispers of her past from years ago, drifted around her. They weren't even trying to hide it.

She didn't want to be reminded about how naive she'd been long ago. How if she did something earlier, the stares and gossips wouldn't be so intense. She never thought she'd ever have to step foot in the NYPD building again.

Here she is not having a clue what's going on, besides that man who tried killing Grotto. Who she had found out Steve wasn't his real name. Karen and him weren't married either.

It was now morning, and she was tired. But, also worried for her sister, and a small part of her worried about the conversation they had yesterday afternoon. The name that escaped Rachel's lips was a person she didn't want to hear about. It shouldn't  
have been a surprise to hear Jacob was out of jail..again. It had been a habit for him, getting sent off to prison for the numerous restraining orders he disobeyed.

Hers being the first. Emily catches the sight of an blonde headed lawyer who was frantically making way through the many officers.

His eyes caught on her as well, "Emily I heard from Karen, I'm so sorry you got dragged into this."

She waves the apology off, "It's fine, not the first time my life has been threatened."

Foggy raises an eyebrow. Emily realizes what she said, "Its nothing, Karen is waiting for you, she needs you I'm sure." She points to the direction he was originally going.

He nods. He goes to walk away but stops, "Still up for that coffee?" Emily smiled lightly noticing how he was trying to lighten the mood. She would've laughed if it was more decent and non-stressful situation.

"Yeah, I'm still up for it."

He smiled then walked away, she was once again left alone.

Emily jumped as her phone vibrated, grabbing it from her pocket she expected it to be Rachel. But, instead it was an unknown number. It read: _I'm coming for you for real this time, for real._

She stares at the phone with widen eyes, shrinking farther into her seat. She knew full well who it was, for the past four years every time he was out of jail he'd taunt her. She believed the texts were bluffs seeing as he never did anything.

"Em, how are you doing? It's been a while since I've seen Hell's Kitchen's blogger."

Quickly hiding the phone from prying eyes she met the stare of a fellow officer, a friend Emily liked to say. A dark skinned man stood in front of her, holding an orange folded piece of clothing; an outfit fit for a prisoner only. Brett Mahoney,  
was one of the good guys in the world and there aren't very many. She remembered when she met him four years ago, he had been the one to respect her crisis. Didn't ask sensitive questions until she was ready.

"You wouldn't know, your surprising visits haven't been happening recently." Her eyes look at the clothing in his hand again. "That for me?"

Brett hears the attempted humor in her voice, shaking his head. "No this is for theGrotto guy. Why do something illegal?"

She smiles jokingly, "Might have a few bodies hidden in my apartment. Guess you have to arrest me, kind sir."

The two broke into quiet laughter.

"Listen Em, the men told me what you told them. You just happened to be there at the wrong time, you said?" Brett questioned, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, Rachel told me to check on 'Steve' while I was hanging out at her work." She tells him, looking him in the eye showing that she was not lying.

"All right, sorry about keeping you here all night, and the station questioning you, I know you hate that."

"They're just doing their jobs."

"Well, sometimes they don't take it easy with the questions. Now get home, get some rest, call your sister. If you need to talk you have my number."

"Thank you, Brett."

"For what."

"For caring how I feel."

"It's my job to care."

"I don't think your job description says anything about random visits, how they're doing for the past four years. You know what people call someone who do that?"

"What do they call them, Andrews?"

"A friend."

As Emily walks out the building, she misses the smile that grew on his face. 

* * *

Emily had been on the phone with Rachel, for an hour, trying to convince her that she was fine, and that she didn't need to come over.

"Rachel, I'm just glad you're okay," Emily says.

"You were the one who was shot at!"

"Yes, I know I was shot at!"

"And you could've died!"

"I'm aware of that too," Emily huffed. "I'm exhausted Rach, I'll call you later okay?"

That night as she falls asleep, she doesn't register the sounds of Frank's dog, Max barking. Meaning the person who entered Frank's apartment wasn't Frank. 

* * *

Emily woke up sweating buckets, her chest heaving. Her hair sticking to her face. It was close to midnight, and her dreams were filled with verbal arguments to physical ones, and she wasn't the one being physical.

"How long has it been since your last nightmare?" A gruff voice asks from her bedroom doorway. She let out a frightening shout, shrinking back until she meets the head board of her bed. Her clammy hands went for her phone that she had set on  
the nightstand, beside her bed. Only to find it not there. She felt her throat close up, and finding it harder to breath.

Light flooded from the ceiling light, and the sounds of boots are heard through the room until they reach her bed.

"Emily-" rough hands grabbed her wrists gently, "Its me, Em." His hands move up to grasp her by her shoulders. The blogger finally took in a familiar face, the man's brown eyes looked at her with a hint of concern.

As her breathing went back to normal, and she composed herself, she sent Frank an angry glare.

"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night!" She declares in a high pitched voice.

He grumbles,"Rachel told me what happened,I came to check on you." Frank admits.

Her lips parted,"And you couldn't have the decency not to maybe," she throws her hands out above her head,"I don't know, not show up in the middle of the night?"

She stops her rant, and takes her precious time in observing his current state. His right bicep was covered in a bit of blood, but the small wound was stitched up. By him most likely; that didn't settle well with her. Knowing that he's probably  
hiding away in his apartment tending to his troubles;alone. She knew what it was like to go through something all alone; and it was stressful, and could be life threatening if you did it seek for help.

Frank noticed the observant look on Emily's face and decided to question her again.

"When was your last nightmare,Em?" He asks, looking at her as he sits on the side of the bed. It was his turn to be the observant one.

The ex-soldier noticed the still frightened look in her eyes; no doubt from the nightmare. Her blue orbs, bloodshot and pink from crying in her sleep, which she had yet to notice. Emily wore an oversized black hooded sweatshirt, that had the  
words in fancy cursive writing, _first, I'll have a coffee._ Beneath it was a mug of coffee. It had originally been a gift for Frank, when they were in their early twenties. He refused to wear it; but she'd catch him wearing it around  
his house, a few times, which then turned into all the time.

He remembered how her face lit up at the sight of him wearing it. But, her smile almost became non-existent. At the age of twenty-five, Emily met the man she would think to be the one for her. Jacob Kane, had the looks that made any woman swoon.  
But, the man happened to be the worst thing to happen to Emily. Jacob made her life miserable, for three long years.

When she escaped from the cruel man, who was sent to jail for breaking a restraining order in which the event put her in the hospital for a month; he gave her the article of clothing to remind her of him, when he went off to fight in the war  
as a Marine. Then told her to stay with his family, wife and two kids; watch over them while he was gone.

She had sobbed so much, that he couldn't help but shed a few tears too. She promised him she would, his family was her family. They had done so much for her. She wanted to do something in return.

She looks at him, fumbling with the hem of the shirt,"A year ago, maybe." She mumbles.

"And do they start every time he gets in contact with you?"

"How did y-"

Frank revealed her phone that was in his hard grip. Emily felt her heart drop, he wasn't supposed to see that.

"How did you get into my phone? Speaking of getting into things, how'd you get in my apartment, I took your key." She defensively demands.

"It wasn't hard finding out your passcode, it was your birthday, which happens to be on Christmas Day," He states, with a roll of his eyes. "And I might've picked your lock."

"You picked my lock?" She repeats questionably, then a curious look appears, "Did that come with being a Marine?"

"Something like that," he chuckles. But then goes back to the task at hand. "Emily, seriously, has this asshole been taunting you for the past few years? Penalty is a year in prison every time someone breaks a restraining order." He spits out."Which  
mean he's broken four, including yours. Yours also being the very first."

"He's bluffing, he's never actually done anything, it's perfectly fine."

"That's a load of bullshit right there, Em, and we both know it. What if he's not messing around? What if he decides to pay a visit when I'm not around to save you?" He points out, his eyes darkening at the thought of Jacob laying his hands  
on her.

"I don't want to think about it," She blurts, her eyes glazing over. "And you bringing it up is not helping."

She looks away, blinking constantly to get rid of the tears. "If you want to talk about problems, let's talk about yours. Huh, what about the problem with all the coming around with fresh cuts and bruises?"

"Emily stop-"

"No, I will not stop!" Emily's voice cracks; she can't take it anymore. Every time she thinks she's better and that she's healed. He comes back to remind her that no matter what, he was always hiding in a corner waiting for her to think it's  
safe.

She finally broke; the sound of weeping echoed through the apartment. Frank couldn't help but take hold of both of her hands in his, in aattempt of comfort. Seeing as he hasn't comforted anybody in a long time. By, as he watched the girl  
sob, he could feel himself break more than he already was.

Emily suddenly felt two strong arms wrap themselves around her small figure, she welcomed the gesture by throwing her arms around his shoulders; burying her forehead into his neck.

If anyone saw this they'd describe it as two broken souls, who didn't know how to fix themselves; but are still trying to fix each other. 

* * *

Emily woke up in a fetal position curled on her side in a ball. She wiped her cheeks to find the feeling of tear stains. She had an image of how terrible she looked. As Emily pushed herself out of bed, she realized she had work.

Tiredly scrambling out of her room she threw on her uniform, and freshened up as much as she could to make it look like she was doing fine.

She shoves some toast in her mouth, and takes a huge drink of coffee not caring how hot it was, then she was off to work. 

* * *

As Emily walked through the glass doors of the diner, she jumped as she was met with the excited cries of the familiar owners of the Midnight Diner.

"You're okay!" Denise shouts, rushing over to Emily and gathering her into her arms. Emily laughed, blushing as random strangers turned their attention to her. Then there came Charles who was blubbering incomprehensible things as he too squeezed her  
in an embrace. The old married couple went from gushing on happily that she was alive to straight out scolding her.

"You were just shot at by that vigilante, Punisher. Which I'm not so sure is a vigilante, after shooting at a sweet girl like you." Denise rants on, she starts shoving Emily towards the door.

"You shouldn't be here stressing yourself out, more than you already are, young lady." Charles continues for his wife. "You should take the day off."

And with that she was shoved out the diner, not having a clue of what just happened.

She laughs shaking her head, walking back towards her apartment. Sending a quick glance back she saw the two crying with joy that she was not hurt.

She wondered how she could deal with the two. 

* * *

One thing was out of place when she walked towards her apartment room. Max was barking like nuts, and Frank's door was wide open, like someone had kicked it open.

"Frank?" She whispered, "Is everything okay?"

She stopped, her heart caught in her throat. There was five men standing in her best friend's apartment, and none of them looked to happy.

But, she had enough time to notice the numerous cans of opened dog food. One having a spoon in it. She could feel the bile rising, Frank had been eating that. He didn't even bother asking for food. She would've gladly helped.

But what her eyes caught on the most, was a gun laying across the table, along with ammo, and radios.

 _This is why he never let me in his apartment. Because, he was hiding this from me._

 __

She started to piece it all together, they weren't from bar fights. They were battle wounds. He had gotten into some mixed up shit.

"What's a pretty girl like ye, associating with lads like this one?" An Irish accent asks.

After that she feels two men grab her, dragging her out of the building along with the dog. She screams and shouts; thrashing in the man's arms but knowing she couldn't get away.

As she was shoved into a car, a man watched as two close weaknesses of his are being put in danger because of him. 

* * *

Sorry for the long wait hope you liked it!

-Amber

 __


	6. Authors note

Hey it's Amber! I got crazedcartoonaddict's  
review and I just want to say thank you! And that to all of you waiting for the next chapter it has already been published on an free app called wattpad! I usually take a while publishingit on here! Lol! My user is MarvelGirl2016


	7. Chapter 4

4| **Punisher found out**  
 **  
**

Emily had developed a disliking to alcohol; not because of the hangovers after a long night of drinking, no not that. She disliked the way it influenced a person's mind; thoughts, and actions. One alcohol influenced person could be a happy  
drunk, sad, or rude. The one intoxicated not so gentlemen she had to be around for years happened to be aggressive, loud, and was plain out scary.

 _"Alright, Lisa, I want you to take your brother and hide." A barely twenty-eight year old Emily, tells a golden haired girl. Not even hiding the fear in her eyes. Emily was watching the two kids, while Frank and Maria were out._

 __

 _It was around eight o'clock in the evening, and the two were getting ready for bed. When the sounds of pounding come from the door, startling the three. After hearing the familiar drunken roar, Emily knew that she had to hide the children. Not let the man that could possibly barge through that door, lay a finger on them. Lisa looks at Emily with her body shaking; scared of what was happening._

 __

 _"I don't want to leave you!" Lisa cries, holding her little brother in her arms. Emily looks at her with frantic eyes._

 __

 _"Lisa, listen to me. If anything was to happen to you. I couldn't live with myself. You're not leaving me, you're just going upstairs. Keep Francis with you." Emily informs the small child, flinching when apound was heard followed by another angry howl._

 __

 _Lisa gives Emily one last tearful glance before being the mature oldest sister takes her brother in her arms and climbs the stairs._

 __

 _"Emily I know you're here!" A slurred voice calls. But, Emily doesn't make a single sound. It then falls silent, just for a few seconds._

 __

 _"Em, I love you. You know I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm trying to change." The man says, his demeanor changing suddenly._

 __

 _This is what he wanted; for her to fall for the trick like she had thousands of times. He would get angry throw a few things at her. He'd even hit her, and throw her around. Emily would run into the bedroom they shared and lock herself in, until either Jacob calmed down. Or find a way in sweet talking her to open the door._

 __

 _But, she had enough._

 __

 _The woman was about to run for the cell phone; to possibly get a hold of Frank or even the police, when it happened. Jacob had seen her the whole time through the door window. And seeing her make a run for the phone riled him up. Emily hears glass shatter, and the click of the door being unlocked as she grabs the house phone._

 __

 _The door then swings open, the sound of shattered glass, crunching under his shoes, as he drunkenly charges at her. Emily had finally dialed the last number of the man she wanted to call. Before a strong hand grabbed her by the shoulder. She screams as he thrusts her into a wall. The phone falling from her grip._

 __

 _The sound of her cry was heard by the children upstairs because she heard them shout for her. The cruel man heard them as well. As he grabs her by the throat and pulls her up and pins her to the wall. He whispers in her ear, his hot breath fanning her ear. The smell of whisky hinted in his breath._

 __

 _"Oh so you're babysitting his kids now? You seem to do everything with dear old Frank Castle."_

 __

 _She sends a brace glare at him, then does something she never thought she'd have the guts to do. She kicked him hard; catching him off guard. His grip disappearing, she takes the chance to run for the phone that lay discarded under the piano bench. She's nearly there, when a hand wraps around her ankle, knocking her off her feet._

 __

 _The sounds of a voice shout from the phone; probably hearing the struggle and screams. Which means he knows who broke into his house. He just doesn't know if Emily is okay._

 __

 _'Frank you better hurry.' The young woman thought._

 __

 _"You're useless! You never do anything right! All I ask is for you to do as I say. Not run off with precious little Frank. You follow him like you're a damn dog!" He yells, and then throws her near the front doorway. Where glass laid around. The stinging caused her to hiss; vision blurring with tears as the glass dug into her thighs through her worn out cotton pajama pants._

 __

 _"Yeah, that's what you are! A damn bitch!"_

 __

 _She didn't see it coming, but she felt it. A swift hard kick was sent to her side. Knocking the air right out of her lungs. She hears steps coming from the stairs. Then looks towards them; seeing Lisa traumatized watching as Emily gets thrown around like a ragged doll._

 __

 _"Don't watch," She forces out, her voice hoarse and scratchysounding. But, then Frank Jr. appears behind her._

 __

 _"Emmy!" The younger boy cries for the woman._

 __

 _By this time Jacob has taken his pleasure into crushing Emily's throat with his bare hands. She chokes, gasping for air, but it's no use. She by mistake locks her blue eyes with Jacob's green ones. That she once thought she had fallen in love with. Instead of the warm and love filled eyes she saw desire; the desire to watch her as the life drains from her eyes._

 __

 _Dots begin to form in her vision; signaling the lack of oxygen. With that last bit of strength she claws her hands at his. In a last attempt of getting free. But, she hears a humorless chuckle from the man._

 __

 _"It's no use. You can't do anything as I crush the life out of you. This wouldn't have happened if you had listened." He tells her, he sounded like he was scolding a child. For one second she thought he was right; that she wasn't getting away this time. That no matter how much she tried Frank's children were going to have to watch her get murdered._

 __

 _That was until a leather jacketed threw himself into Jacob. The two tumbling to the wooden floor. Air filled her lungs as she took a huge gulp of it. Her neck hurt as she moved, including her side when she breathed heavily._

 __

 _She felt the presence of someone kneeling beside her. A head of blonde an kind face._

 __

 _"Maria." She croaked, the woman's name barely heard; as if Emily's voice had disappeared. She couldn't move her neck without pain shooting though it. Emily could already feel the brusies forming. She still tried to form the words, until Frank's wife instructed her not to speak and that she knew that she was protecting her children. Her fingers ran through Emily's brown locks in a comforting way._

 __

 _The sound of the struggle between Frank and Jacob came to a stop, as the sound of an ambulance and police sirens were heard. Everything was a blur after that; the last thing she saw of Jacob was his murdurous glare as he was shoved into a police car. While she was escorted in a gurney into an ambulance._

 __

Emily awakes from unconsciousness, blinking repeatedly until her vision clears. She hears the sound of a dog whimpering.

 _Max_

 __

She goes to move towards the Pitt bull, but she feels herself wrenched backwards, knocking her onto her butt. Her back colliding with the brick wall, head hitting it as well. She lets out a shout. Emily takes in her surroundings; rusted shackles  
were locked around her tiny wrists. One man on either side of her holding the chain. They had done the same to Max, except his chain was around his neck.

The blogger jerks when she hears the sound that had brought her back to consciousness. Deep shouts; yelling, taunting for them to come at the person. She then realized whose voice it belonged to.

 _Frank._

 __

Frank was here; except he wasn't here to save them. He was in a bit of trouble.

Emily starts to pull at her restraints when hears the shouts from her best friend; sounding as if he were in agony. She begged for the men to stop. They ignored her pleads; and continued at keeping the woman still.

"Bring 'emin." A familiar Irish accent commands. She deduced that this was the leader of the men. Because as soon as he called out orders the men obeyed. Dragging max, who whimpered, and Emily cried out when they pulled at the chains that  
caused the cuffs to rub against her skin.

She found herself on front of Frank, who looked at the two with worried glances.

"Hey." His voice sounded hoarse. Emily's eyes watered at the sight of him. He was worse than she had ever seen him. His nose looked to be broken; blood stained his lips, it dribbling from his mouth.

"It seems you've taken a liken to this mutt," The man states, his hands on his hips. "Let's not forget this lovely lady here."

Emily tried moving forward again like she had with Max. Unfortunately can she wasn't even able to walk more than one step. She felt the Irish man's stare and she wanted to hide herself; but her waitress uniform that she was still in wasn't going  
to help her in concealing her body.

The man suddenly kneeled in front of Emily, clicking his tongue to get the attention of Max. Petting the dog as he looked at the ex-soldier.

"If I don't get my money, everything I've done to you. I'm doing double to poor Fido here, huh?" He instructs Frank. Then sends a glance at Emily making a chill run up her spine. "And my men will have a little fun with this fresh piece of meat."

The blogger started to feel her stomach roll at the sickening words that fell out of the man's mouth. As the man picked up what looked like a electric screwdriver to Emily. She knew exactly what the vile man had done with it after she caught a glance  
at Frank's foot. It took everything she had to keep the bile down at the horrible sight.

"Wait, wait, wait." Frank started, his eyes not leaving Emily or his dog. The sound of the tool being turned on caused Emily and Frank to panic. Emily started to pull at the chains; not caring about the glares she was getting from the gang members.  
The Irish man started to tauntingly bring it in front of Emily then the dog.

"Hey, let them go, just let them go asshole." Frank shouted anger evident in his voice. "I'll tell you where your money is okay? I'll tell you. Your money's in a van, okay? It's in a van." He finally tells them panting.

Emily had just noticed through her panic that the Irish man just wanted his money back. But, how the hell did Frank get his money? Why was he messing around with gangs?

"It's on 48th and 10th," He admits to the men. "Just let them go, let them go you asshole."

"He's an animal lover. And a lady's man how sweet." The Irish man emotionlessly says. "Take him out. Keep the girl here just in case he's lying."

Emily is forced to watch as he talks to Frank in an threatening manner, dragging the tip of the screwdriver down the side of his bloodied face. But, what she hears next from the leader makes her eyes bulge from their sockets.

"I'll keep you alive until the cash is safe at hand."

 _They were going to kill Frank?_

"Wait, no please don't kill him!" Emily shouts, tears rimming her eyes. But she finds herself being ignored once again. The man suddenly slams the electrical tool down and pulls out a flip phone. Instructing his men to watch their  
backs as they enter the said place that his money was said to be.

Emily started to wonder how Frank could possiblyact socalm in a situation like this one. The man then walked out leaving just two guards who held Emily; and Frank who stayed quiet.

"Frank?" The blogger whispered, voice shaking as she spoke. "What's going on? Is there something you're keeping from me? Because now I know this is much more serious."

He only answered with six words, "Everything is going to be alright."

Emily didn't know if she had enough faith to believe that.

"Does this have anything to do with them?" She asked hestiantly, she knew she was driving into an no safe zone it was why she was so hesitant.

But, this time Frank didn't say a word. She thought maybe he just didn't want to talk. That changed after she distinguished a concentrated look on his face. Then it hit her.

 _He's trying to get out._

 __

Not even five minutes later, the leader came in, a scowl on his face. One of the men let go of her and held a gun to Frank's head.

"No!" She screamed loudly, now that there was only one man restraining her it might be a bit easier to move. She then sucked in a breath at what she witnessed next; as if it were magic Frank was free from his restraints. The ex-soldier grabbed the  
oppenent's hand that held the gun, and aimed it towards the ceiling just at the moment the man presses the trigger.

The gunshot echoes off the walls causing Emily to flinch. Her guard distracted by Frank's actions, gives her an opportunity, she takes a deep breath knowing that she might get killed. Using both hands she shoves his chest with all her might sending  
him crashing into a wall. The chains clang to the dirty ground.

Her attention goes back to Frank and is shocked at what he does next. As the ginger haired leader turns to escape, Frank doesn't hesitate to run the man through with two bullets through the back with the gun he had grabbed.

The man who had tried shooting Frank was kneeling on the ground clutching his neck, seeming to be choking. Emily was to scared and overwhelmed to pay attention.

The leader who was now crawling away on his stomach was calling for his men. Frank was pushing himself from his seat grunting as he did. But what he did next made her scream in terror. He turned to the man who was still clutching at his throat,  
pressing the gun to the man's temple and pulled the trigger without second thoughts.

Emily wasn't terrified of him; she wasterrified of how he didn't even flinch as he killed a human being like it was an everyday thing. The answer to her thoughts came to her just as she watched Frank snatch up a long narrow looking gun, it  
makes a sound as he loads a bullet into its chamber.

 _It was him! No no! It can't be!_

 __

Just as she mentally protested in her mind, Frank pointed the gun towards the doorway and pulled the trigger, a bullet embedding itself into the chest of an gang member. Then continued to stalk towards the withering leader.

"You wanted this," the man tells him.

"No, I counted on it," Frank says shaking his head.

"Frank don't do this! Please this isn't you!" Emily shouts at him; no matter how cruel the man was, she didn't believe anyone had the right to decide who lived and died.

Frank acted as if she weren't there, and proceeded to talk to the man, "Now I can ask you face to face. Who was there that day? Who killed my family?" Frank raised the gun up to the ginger's head.

Emily realized her earlier question was answered; this was about his family. He was looking for the killers who murdered his family. The family that she felt was hers too. Frank fitted the profile of the man people called The Punisher. But, she  
was still in denial.

When the leader didn't give Frank any answers, he pulled the trigger creating a hole the size of a fist in the middle of the man's face. Emily covered her face with her still chained hands. She didn't bother holding it back as she keeled over, letting  
it out.

"Emily!" Frank shouted, as bullets soared through the air, one grazing his arm if she saw correctly. She just relieved herself of the bile just moments before the bullets came. Emily looked over at him, angered at the same moment; betrayal seeping  
in. But she still cared no matter what he did she always would.

Emily fell to the ground, cowering in a corner away from the entrance to avoid bullets.

That's when she heard it; even over the gunshots she did. The familiar rhyme that was oh so familiar to them both.

"One batch, two batch, penny and dime." He whispered.

Emily realized he wa going to do something. Which could possibly get him more damaged then he already is.

But that didn't happen, because the guns stopped and so did the yelling. A man clothed in red, in a mask with horns that covered his face emerged through the doorway. She knew who this was everyone talked about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

The vigilante closes the door, as Emily finds the courage to get up and stalk cautiously towards the two men.

"They're gonna pay. Every single god damn one of 'em." Frank told the hero, Emily then came into view. Her chains still trailing behind her. The masked man noticed this and broke her restraints earning a quiet thank you. The sudden change in his  
posture after hearing her voice, made her furrow her eyebrows. She then turned to Frank.

"Your family was my family too, Frank. I'm slowly putting this together. You were the one doing the killings. The ones all over the news? They even named you The Punisher. You were the guy who almost shot me." She questioned him. The look in Frank's  
eyes told her everything; that there was no reason to be in denial.

Because, everything she put together fit.

"They will." The masked man said. "But not tonight. Move."

Emily couldn't help but agree more. No matter how hurt she felt about the ex-soldier keeping this from her. She stumbled towards his side, grabbing onto his bicep as they followed the vigilante. Frank and her hid behind a wall, the masked man doing  
the same.

As the gang members entered the room, the two fighters jumped from the hiding places and fought against them all. Emily staying where she was, not liking the feeling as she didn't do anything to help. She didn't know how to.

Frank threw a man across the room, crashing into a wooden object. The ex-soldier went to shoot the man but the masked man stopped him by throwing a stick like weapon, knocking the gun from his hand.

Emily noticed that Frank wasn't looking very well, and no matter how mad she was at him, she couldn't help but make way to him as Devil knocked the last man out. Well she thought he did.

They missed one.

It all went by in slow motion, a gun was fired aimed at a specific target. Emily was about to call out to Frank when she felt it. White hot pain erupted from her right side, above her waist. A substance staining her uniform as it flowed from the  
area. _Blood._

 __

Her hands fly to her injury as she lets out a pained scream. Feeling sweat drip down her face as she scrunched her eyes closed. Both of her hands were applied to the wound. The sticky substance seeping thorough her digits.

Frank noticed this and his anger refueled grabs a hammer and goes to bash in the shooter's head who was now laying unconscious after the ordeal.

"Frank don't," Emily pleaded through pained tears as she was fighting to stay on both feet. As the two finally took care of all the men, the masked man grabbed Frank. Emily opened her eyes and started walking; adrenaline pumping in her lungs suddenly.

"Alright let's get out of here."

The masked man notices this; and encourages her to keep going. Emily hopes that they all get out of this alive. 

* * *

They were in a graveyard, and the pain from Emily's gunshot wound was coming back as the adrenaline wore off. Frank was being supported by the masked vigilante, the three panting from exhaustion. They finally settled, Emily collapses against the  
same gravestone beside Frank, she lets out a pained groan. Catching the attention of the two men.

"Hold on in there, ma'am." The vigilante tells her encouragingly.

"You're making me sound old," She chuckles through gasps.

"Hey," Frank panted, "Not bad."

The hero chuckles, "Thanks."

"I guess, I uh...I guess I was wrong," Frank admitted.

"About?"

Emily was curious what he was admitting about too, even as she was cursing under her breath. Another shot of pain appears causing her to wail, and grabbing onto the first thing she comes in contact with.

Frank's hand.

Which he surprisingly, doesn't push her away but grips her hand. Knowing the pain she was having. The blood was still rapidly flowing, and from the hole in the front of her uniform and back showed that the bullet went clean through.

"About you being a pussy."

As those words fell from Frank's lips, Emily couldn't help but laugh, only to keel to the side in pain. Frank pulled her back, sitting her back up against the gravestone.

"Don't get all sweet on me now, Frank."

After hearing what the vigilante said Emily couldn't help but mumble, "You should see what he does when he apologizes to me. So sweet."

She countined to mumble, probably due to theof blood she's losing. She rest her head on Frank's shoulder as he chuckles but then falls into a coughing fit.

"Helps on the way," the hero instructs the two.

"Nah, you should go," Frank tells him, looking at Emily worriedly. "I'm past saving but she isn't."

Emily starts protesting and saying not to talk like that. But he continues, "At least I'd have company, right? I think I might cash out."

The vigilante drops in front of the two best friends; he can't help but _see_ how the girl understands how he feels, probably because she was connected to his life before all this happened.

"You'd have made an hell of a Marine, Red." Frank tells Red as Emily hears and decides to call him the same.

"That rhyme."

The mention of where Red was going alerted Emily as to where this was going.

"What's it mean?"

"What'd you say?" Frank mumbles.

"You heard him say that?" Emily asks quietly, astonished.

Red nods,"Right before you pulled the trigger."

Frank questioned the same way Emily did, surprised that he had heard that. Red confirming that he heard it.

"What the..." The ex-soldier sighs, "I gotta say sometimes, sometimes I think you just might be the devil."

Emily and Red both smile in amusement, Emily doing it through the pain trying not to doze off.

"Sometimes I think I might be, too."

"It's, uh...one batch, two batch, penny and dime, you know." Frank tells him, Emily grips his hand tighter.

"It was her favorite book." Emily says, "She loved it."

"You know, you...you gotta cross the ocean...and go fight." Frank tells Red after a few deep breaths. The two just listened to him as he talked. Emily focusing on his voice.

"Whole time you're thinking you're gonna be scared, right? But then you're not." Frank states, "See, that part of it was always easy for me."

"Killing."

Emily slightly flinches at the word, but doesn't move away from Frank.

The ex-soldier continued, "Even watching my buddies die, it just...it didn't mean nothing. The first time I got scared...was on a plane on the way home."

Emily listened closely to this.

"Kept thinking God was gonna pull the rug from under us, you know? Shit, that's his kind of funny, you know. But the plane landed safe and we were home."

"I remember," Emily starts, biting her bottom lip, flinching, "When he came home, everyone was so happy. Especially me, I pretty much attached myself to him in high school." She chuckled, at the good memories.

"I practically lived with his family, I actually did."

The three continue to talk about it, tears stinging her eyes as she remembers who she lost. Who she and Frank lost.

"I get to her classroom, right? She's in there...but she's got no idea." Frank says, Emily smiles, through her tears.

She looks to Red again, "She's got no idea daddy's home."

"I walk in, these kids, they're not even studying, they're...doing some kind of yoga. Yeah." Frank chuckles.

Emily does too, remembering the memory like it was yesterday, her and his wife Maria had video taped it. Frank continues the story, Emily feels herself slipping into unconsciousness, but doesn't loosen her grip on Frank's hand.

As she fell asleep; she was sure that she might not wake up again. 

* * *

Sorry about the long wait. I just started my sophomore year in high school. So my updating won't be everyday more like on weekend or when I have spare time.

Till next time

-Amber


End file.
